


Strangers on a Train

by vaenire



Series: spiritassassin prompts [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 06:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10714149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaenire/pseuds/vaenire
Summary: The person in the window seat beside him was already there, head leaning against the window as he napped. He was a young man, likely around Baze’s own age.Baze put his backpack on the ground in front of him, and pulled out his laptop. He needed to make some last minute textbook purchases.--for the tumblr prompt "meet on a train au"





	Strangers on a Train

Baze found his seat relatively unscathed by the large holiday crowd. The train’s aisles were stuffed with people inching toward their seats, so Baze quickly shoved his luggage into the overhead space and sat.

The person in the window seat beside him was already there, head leaning against the window as he napped. He was a young man, likely around Baze’s own age.

Baze put his backpack on the ground in front of him, and pulled out his laptop. He needed to make some last minute textbook purchases.

The train pulled away from the station. Baze connected to the train’s wifi and found the remaining textbooks he’d been tracking down, purchased them, and put the laptop away. He grabbed the book he’d been trying to get through over break, and flipped to his page.

The man beside him shifted in his sleep. Baze glanced at him, where the man’s face was more fully facing him. He had soft features, and his mouth was slightly upturned in his sleep, even in his uncomfortable position. His neck would probably hurt when he woke up.

Baze shook his head, turning back to the book he had open on his lap. Perhaps it was cruel to bend the book’s spine so badly, but he did not need anyone seeing the flowery pink cover of his romance book.

Baze found his eyes drawn back to the man sleeping beside him, though. Occasionally, he would let out a sigh, and Baze blushed at the stupid flutter in his chest. These romance novels really didn’t help his tendency toward the hopeless.

Baze forced himself to keep his eyes on the page for a solid twenty minutes. And then the book ended, and Baze had nothing else to do.

Except think about home. He sighed. It was so good to be back in his hometown and in his own bed, with meals with his mothers every night for the past three weeks. He dreaded going back to school. He glanced past the man still laying his head against the window and watched the landscape go by. Already, it had changed from his familiar prairie to foothills and short trees.

“Would you like the window seat?”

Baze jumped in his seat, alarmed by the man’s sudden question. He hadn’t even opened his eyes.

“Oh, no thank you,” he said quickly. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

The man shrugged, eyes still closed as if he were sleeping. “It’s alright, I noticed you kept trying to look.”

“No, no, I insist.”

The man smiled, and opened his eyes. They were milky blue, and Baze gasped softly. “It doesn’t do me much good, if you wanted to look at the landscape.”

Baze’s cheeks heated, and he knew he was red. He was embarrassed that the man had noticed his glances earlier, even without seeing him.

“Really, it’s okay. You don’t have to move,” he stammered.

The man shrugged. He rolled his shoulders and held out his hand. “I’m Chirrut Imwe, by the way.”

Baze shook it weakly. “Baze Malbus.”

“Where are you headed today, Baze?” Chirrut asked with a friendly grin. His eyes looked right past Baze, but Baze could still tell all of Chirrut’s senses were focused on him.”

“Uh, Jedha City. I go to university there. 

“I’m heading there, too. You go to JU or UJC?”

“UJC,” Baze said.

“Ha! Good! JU’s where all the party kids go. I can tell you’re more studious than that. You’ve been reading that book this whole time.”

Baze froze, going even brighter red than before, probably. He laughed awkwardly, and judging by Chirrut’s face, it was the reaction he was going for.

“What do you study, Baze?”

Baze knew he was a hopeless romantic. He was born that way. But he couldn’t help but enjoy the way that Chirrut purposefully kept using his name. “I’m a freshman. I’m undecided.”

“You don’t sound happy about that,” Chirrut observed, his eyebrows knit and his head tilted toward Baze.

Baze let out a long sigh. “I knew it was undecided, I wouldn’t say I’m unhappy about that.”

“Oh?”

He didn’t know why, but he had the urge to share his thoughts with Chirrut. He might share anything with Chirrut, if he asked. “It’s just far from home, I guess.”

Chirrut hummed. “You get homesick?”

“It’s different in the city,” Baze said plainly. Something about Chirrut made him want to tell him  _ exactly _ how it was different, how it was difficult for Baze to connect with the other students.

Chirrut hummed again, and Baze felt as if he understood him, even without Baze putting it into words 

“Jedha City is a big place. Sometimes it can be hard to make it a little smaller.”

Baze nodded before remembering Chirrut couldn’t see him, and hummed as well.

“It’s commendable to go to a school so far away, especially if you feel that way, though. Pushing yourself can create worthwhile experiences.”

Baze side eyed him. He was probably eighteen, from what he’d said. “You think?”

“Yeah, I know it. Everything happens for a reason, after all.”  He flashed that bright smile again, and Baze couldn’t help but smile in turn. He desperately wanted to ask Chirrut about what experiences he’d had in his short life to make him like this. Like all of this. But as Chirrut gave no hint, Baze felt it wasn’t right to ask.

They chatted for the rest of the ride to Jedha City. Chirrut, it turned out, practiced martial arts at a studio less than a half mile from Baze’s dormitory. Chirrut also plays the piano, and can sing. Chirrut was a practicing Buddhist, and they shared stories of going to the temple together. When Baze said he didn’t go anymore, Chirrut prodded him for a reason why. Baze could, Chirrut suggested, come by Chirrut’s temple sometime since it was nearby campus. Baze glowed at that invitation, even as he knew he probably wouldn’t follow up on it.

Even as Baze was less than looking forward to his return to Jedha City, now he mourned when the announcement came over the intercom that it was the next stop. The train putted to a stop, and Baze begrudgingly got to his feet, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and grabbing his suitcase from the overhead.

Chirrut grabbed a messenger bag that was at his feet and slipped it over his head, resting it against his hip. “It was a pleasure getting to know you, Baze Malbus.” Chirrut stuck out his hand to shake.

Baze took it, and Chirrut shook it firmly, holding on just a second longer than necessary. Baze licked his lips and looked at the sweet smile on Chirrut’s face, trying to force himself to remain casual. “You too, Chirrut Imwe.” It felt strange to say his full name, and the awkwardness stood out. Chirrut chuckled.

“Good luck with your semester.”

With that, they filed off of the train and went their separate ways.

Baze covered up his feelings of mentally kicking himself with opening his Uber app, checking the estimate of how much it would cost to get to campus.

He went out to the curb to wait for his ride, reviewing all of what he learned about Chirrut. God, it was so natural to talk to him. It hurt a little bit to think about. He should’ve asked for his number. You know, if he wanted to go to his temple sometime.

He glanced around, looking for the license plate of his ride, and happened to see a familiar face, being helped into a car just thirty feet away. Chirrut.

For a brief second, he debated whether he should rush over there and ask for his info. The second ended quickly, as Baze sprinted towards him.

“Chirrut!” he shouted. Chirrut’s friend looked up, surprised, as Baze came to screeching stop beside him.

“Baze?” Chirrut asked from where he sat in the backseat of the car, his feet still on the concrete curb.

“Chirrut, I forgot to ask for your number.” Chirrut’s friend’s eyebrows shot up. “I mean, if I, uh, had questions about your temple.”

Chirrut grinned as bright as Baze had seen. “Of course. The temple.”


End file.
